The Wine
by Alex the Kritkanzer
Summary: Neville's grandmother has a double mission - to get out of misty Britain and to find him a match. First is easy, don't bet on second, but he enjoys the trip so far... Notwolf and canon compliant.
1. A Vacation with Old Friends

The toys belong to J.K. Rowling and Notwolf, and I am grateful to be able to play with them. I hope you will like what you read!

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><p>January in Britain was not exactly a comfy month. Augusta looked again over the dismal picture – thin fog was crawling among the bare branches, the wind was howling and the entire landscape was looking brown. She looked again at the colorful muggle postcard her friend Lavignia had sent her. On it Monaco was glowing in the night like a thousand diamonds crown against the black sky. The letter was as cheerful as Lavignia had ever been.<p>

"My dearest Augusta,

As you know, we had fabulous vintage this year and the wine was abundant and went for a very right price. Sure it was a lot of work as good wine needs a lot of hands but the results are spectacular. As a token of appreciation Ambroise is taking me for an extended cruise over the Mediterranean. The old Bathtub had been spruced, the elves are ecstatic and it is fully loaded for a three months long escape. Would you like to join us? We may pick you up at Dover on the fifth of January. It will not be a problem at all as we are going to pick up my darling father-in-law. Monsieur Germain was spending Christmas with some of his old cronies as he calls them (and they are really old, and some are not even alive as far as I manage to keep tab on them, but in their club death is not a problem that spoils a good game of poker!) He was thinking of visiting some other old hunting grounds and we will probably drop for few days in Bulgaria as there are some veilas he fondly remembers. Since Madame Genevieve died years ago Monsieur Germain's memory about veilas has dramatically improved. So sad that this is almost the only part of his memory which is completely intact, as well as his winemaking skills. Oh, and of course he is still a charming story teller, especially if there is an eager audience.

Please my dearest, do consider this opportunity! I hope Neville will be able to join you as we positively need someone young to charm the sirens! Ambroise says he is tired of them luring him every year. Who knows, may be we will be able to find him a beautiful Eunice somewhere along these Greek islands, but don't tell him or he will run away before we even get you on board."

Lavignia was Augusta's classmate from Hogwarts who spent her last semester in Beauxbatons. There the pale English Rose charmed the dark Arles pirate Ambroise de Vigneaut. Not long after she changed forever the Misty Albion for the perpetually sunny South of France. Her parents-in-law were smitten by her accent that they found charming beyond belief, by the ladylike pattern of her hats and gloves and the genuine love between the young couple at the first place. When this love resulted in six new de Vigneauts who were taught to ride before they learned to walk properly and could wave a spell in three languages before they all went to Beauxbatons – the position of Lavignia was cemented better than the papal palace in Arles. She loved parties – so the chateau partied with gusto, she loved roses, so her in-laws' elves had gone high and lo to find exquisite sorts for the formal English Garden, she loved sailing, so Monsieur Germain procured a real pirate ship and polished it to look like the Flying Dutchman. She called it the Bathtub and all the family spent the winter months sailing the hot seas while the winter was singing lullaby to their extensive vineyards.

The ship was big and Neville had spent a few disastrous days on it at the time he did not show any magic skills. Thanks Merlyn for the house elves who had one of them permanently watching him while he was awake. That saved him from falling overboard twice, from falling from the rails, from being swept by a high wave… But it was all in the past. Lavignia found Neville a charming young lad and was trying for ages to get him interested in one of her own granddaughters. Amelie was great girl but nothing clicked between the two of them before. May be now that the battle was over they would be more relaxed and enjoy each other company more. Augusta picked up her quill and started the response.

"My dear Lavignia, it will be our pleasure to join you…"

* * *

><p>"You should not have answered for me Gran! I have my work at Hogwarts to consider!"<p>

"Phew, this is already sorted with Pomona, she thinks you first need some sun and then you can bring some sea plants for the big aquarium so it is considered a business trip. And I am getting old and frail; someone should take care of me!"

"Gran you are not frail!"

"Not yet may be, but I am getting there!"

"What about Mum and Dad?"

Augusta sighed. Neville had not given up hope that one day his parents would be back completely, not the remnants the two former aurors were. "They will be fine without us for a while Neville. We will not be absent for so long. Plus, we will have the seagulls to get the messages to us if something comes up."

* * *

><p>The Dover port was as windy and foggy as ever and Augusta clutched Neville's sleeve walking down the slippery cobblestones. At the very end of the peer solitary old man was standing. If there were careful observers around, they would have seen that the drizzle did not touch his sumptuous robes, but there were only the three of them. He gallantly greeted Augusta and looked with interest at Neville, observing how much the young lad resembled his grandfather to the old woman's delight.<p>

"I heard you are a fine swordsman, Mr. Longbottom! This is a skill greatly appreciated once and still in high value around Chateau de Vigneaut." The way the old Frenchman was holding his cane was not the one of a grandfather in need of support. Neville smiled. Monsieur Germain was not known as a wall flower. He had battled both the muggle and the wizarding wars and the invisibility of his castle had proved invaluable for saving many lives during the muggles' most ferocious times. Monsieur Germain had been vocal opponent of Voldemort and the few Death Eaters who had gone to silence him had not come back to tell the story. Rumors were that the nice man had called some of his muggle wartime buddies for backup. He was living on the smudged line between the two worlds and happily at that.

"Ah, here are my darling Ambroise and Lavignia, on time as always!" Behind the old man the ragged sails of "Lavignia-sur-Mer" were barely visible. A gangplank fell and the entire crew of elves was manning the yards, each dressed in his or her favourite flag. An ancient elf with greenish gray tufts of hair on his ears was holding a tray of champagne flutes right next to the place where the two smiling humans were waving at them.

"Wineglass, am I glad to see you my boy!" Monsieur Germain laughed. Lavignia sighed imperceptibly. Wineglass was Monsieur Germain's personal elf and had been following him everywhere, returning to the deck few minutes before his master to assure his entire luggage was safely stowed.

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><p>Neville woke up to a brightly sunlit cabin and to the smell of sea. The supper that he had had the previous evening had not been big as he was afraid of the seasickness that was his trouble as a child. Neville was glad to find out no traces of the feeling though. He shaved, dressed and left in search for food.<p>

The first person to meet on the deck was Amelie who was sunbathing clad in something symbolic. She waved at him to come closer and whistled piercingly.

"You are as hungry as I am?" she laughed. "Corkie, please ask Cahrdonnay to double the breakfast! And to toss some English muffins as well…"she added in French.

"Why are you calling him Corkie?" asked Neville taking off his shirt. It was almost indecent to be so overdressed next to the lady.

"How else should I call an elf named Corker? Grandpa's idea, of course, but the little guy loves it!" Amelie chuckled.

Corker popped up with a loud sound and brought two trays laden with food. He served it deftly and hovered around with coffee jug and creamer. Neville squinted at the elf's attire – few layers of cheesecloth stained with grape juice and a necklace of cork rounds on a bright red string. The elf beamed at him. "Mistress Amelie le did pour moi!"

Amelie translated. "He wanst to say that I made it for him – which is true."

"Mais non," the elf protested something in such a rapid French that Neville gave up. Corker disappeared and come back with another elf, in dark burgundy cheesecloth this time. "I am Porto the translator, Master Neville, if you ever need me. Corker wanted to tell you that Mistress Amelie is so kind that she gave him her own necklace from her own neck and she is also so modest to get credit for such generosity!"

"Porto, don't make me blush! I just have run out of corks and decided to share." Amelie actually did blush. She put aside the bid book she had been reading when Neville appeared and took her fork. "Let us eat!" The two elves disappeared immediately.

"What are you reading?" Neville asked after that had finished the mountain of food and Corker had cleaned up.

"Professional literature," Amelie sighed. "I am the nose of the generation so I have also to know what is what. This is "The Magic in French Wines" but is not much, to be honest. Monsieur Germain is of an opinion that one of his friends in Bulgaria has few volumes that may prove to be of certain interest."

"You read Bulgarian?" Neville whistled.

"Nope, I don't but at one point there were a lot of people there who spoke French as fluently as I do and some of them were keen winemakers. So they kept their notes in the language of the winemakers who trained them. If not, there are bound to be elves around that can translate."

"Bulgarians don't have elves, they have talassams. Hermione is very fond of them."

"Of Bulgarians or of the talassems?" Amelie laughed again.

"TalassAms. Oh, she is very fond of Victor, granted, I saw a dragon scale on her finger." Neville smiled as well. "She brought one of the talassams with her last year. A ball-size clematis pod with legs and hands, cute as a mandragore bush and strong as ox. It was complaining of the wet climate all the time. Do all of you still call your great-grandfather "Monsieur Germain"?"

"But of course! How else we will distinguish him from my father?" Amelie saw how the spark in Neville's eyes grew dim. "How are your parents?"

"Same as yesterday and the day before and the year before and the last two decades practically… Sorry, Amelie, I did not mean to come like a ton of bricks. It is so frustrating sometimes. They are both alive and not alive and I don't know what I hate most. Merlin, I did not mean it, at least I have some hope while so many people don't. You know Hannah, Hannah Abbot, my schoolmate. Voldemort killed her mother. She said she would pay dearly to be in my shoes. I just wish the St. Mungo's people were a bit more hard working…"

"Have you thought about a treatment abroad?"

"Their files were sent to few places but nothing came back." Neville sighed. "It is as if everyone had forgotten about them."

Amelie squeezed his hand with compassion. For the two grandmas spying from the deck above it was a good sign.

* * *

><p>The weather over the Mediterranean was going from bad to worse and after some discussions the captain decided that they could use few days in calm waters. "Lavignia-sur-Mer" emerged in the freezing waves of Durmstrang Reservoir with shivering elves on the yards and shivering humans at the deck. But the warmth of the hosts' welcome was melting. Durmstrang had a huge winery and distillery as wine and alcohol were very popular as potion bases and for common use. Distinguished wine master as Monsieur Germain would have been met with highest honors even if he were not personal friend to half the faculty of magic potions and his fame had long ago included Ambroise. Neville was hugged fiercely by Hermione and Luna and he and Amelie were swept by the younger gang around Victor Krum. Lavignia and Augusta were personal guests to Mrs. Klyutcharova the chatelaine as she had been at Beauxbatons for a while and they had common friends and teachers to gossip about. Porto the translator was in high demand as there were few talassams who did not speak a word of French but were eager to find the slightest wishes of their guest the elves who had been given the best nests next to the fires at the underground floor.<p>

It was still vacation time at Durmstrang and the days were filled with some lazy mornings, some sleigh rides, a visit to the dragon camp and the winged horses stables, the eagle nests and the watch tower, some indoor Quidditch in the Dragon Hall, the aptly named sports hall with draconian proportions and simply snowball fights in which magic was strictly forbidden. Neville felt rested and ready to move mountains. He noticed that Amelie was missing from all the sports stuff and the rides. She had shaken her head when he asked and explained that she had been working in the distillery library. Her eyes grew fiery as she described the treasures she had been allowed to touch, books on wine dating to the 12th century! Neville also saw that her eyes lit when she was speaking about Trayan, a hereditary wine maker, who had been summoned by his grandfather to help his friend's granddaughter in her research. It seemed that Monsieur Germain was a better strategist than his daughter-in-law, Neville thought. But he only smiled and provided a convenient smoke screen to keep the grandmas off track.

* * *

><p>Luna was playing chess with Neville. She had borrowed the Headmaster's set which was a gift from the wine making guild. Each figure was holding a small glass of wine and when it was taken, the winner had to drink it. Neville was suspicious that either Luna had forgotten how to play or she deliberately was losing against him. Sure, the wine glasses were just a little bit bigger than a shooter, but by the endshpil she had three figures against his almost full set. He was thinking how to politely get out of the situation.<p>

Amelie entered the room with her trademark springy gait. "Lovely! I need both of you!"

"I am not very good for use. This is the third game and I have won twice already!" Neville laughed.

"This is the point of playing chess, isn't it? Oh, come on Luna! Not THIS set!" Amelie chuckled.

"Where did you hear about it Am?" Luna giggled. "Not from our illustrious Headmaster!"

"Of course not! But I was offered a game tonight by Trayan and all this in front of Grandmaman! She was charmed, such a studious young man, wants to play chess! Now I get why Monsieur Germain was so keen to know whether we would play the Wine Guild set, but waited to ask after Grandmaman was safely out of earshot…"

"You will play then?"

"But of course! I have been told they keep the best wine for the evenings!"

"I am most insulted, Mademoiselle! And so is my noble rival the White King! We have never served inferior wine that is not up to our regal standards, you have my word of a King of the Blacks!" The king was no bigger than a doll and was still holding his goblet in his left hand, while the right one rested on his sword.

"I most sincerely did not mean to insult you, Your Majesty, but I was told that at night you serve a black wine of exceptional rarity to your champions!" Amelie promptly curtsied and her necklace of corks almost identical to Luna's jumped over her sweater.

"You are invited to test it tonight – I am sure you will understand the drive to win a game and the taste of victory!" nodded the Black King a little bit less sourly.

"Why do you need us both Amelie?" Neville was glad to see the kings waved their armies in the box.

"I am working on a manuscript for a herb wine and there are forty different herbs in it. I know some but I need help with them. And there are some notes in Bulgarian that Trayan does not want to translate for me, so I am counting on Luna! They look like a formula somewhat."

Luna laughed. "Nope, I think I know what they are. These are common things that are written on the walls and mean penis. Forget it, these are doodles but I will come just in case!"

They worked hard, with Neville and Luna doing the translation of the herbs through Latin and Amelie diligently recording all, even the doodles. It was almost supper time when she lifted her head and said, "You have missed something somewhere! I have only thirty-nine herbs down… I counted twice!"

"I am sure we went one by one, but let us go over again!" Neville was leafing through his parchments drafts.

"No need! There is not fortieth herb or rather there is not one now." Trayan was looking at the French girl.

"Why is this?" she prodded.

"This is a story that your great-grandpa will be telling tonight. He asked me on what we have been working and said that there is more to what is in the book. And he also asked to bring the Wine Guild Chess. Had he ever told you why?"

"Not that I can remember. But he is very keen for me to play it by some reason."

"Come on, we have to dress up for dinner." Luna closed the bug dictionary she was holding.

"I got a very odd card that I have to be dressed in white silk shirt, any chance you got the same?" Neville asked Trayan.

"I sure did. Today is the celebration of Midwinter, so the men are dressed for dancing in shirts only, no dinner jackets allowed. The patron saint was going in a white silk shirt on his white horse to order the winter to go away and to welcome the spring."

"Spring? What spring?" Amelie was looking through the tall window where the snowflakes were swirling.

"Well, the winter is ordered to go away, that does not mean that she will listen immediately. Just like some ladies…" Trayan was beaming at her.

"So white silk, you said… Fine, I will see what I can do."

"It is for the men."

"I have to match your outfit for the dances, don't I? See you there! Luna, I may need some help with my hair, will you lend me a hand?"


	2. A Game of Chess

The toys belong to J.K. Rowling and Notwolf, and I am grateful to be able to play with them. I hope you will like what you read!

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><p>The dinner was jovial and Neville was relieved to see that all the men were indeed dressed in white silk shirts. The garments differed wildly in cut, but were like snow banks among the colorful silks of the ladies' dresses. Luna was spectacular in her House blue with heavy bronze necklace inlaid with moonstones, Augusta and Lavignia had opted for the Griffindor's reds, Mrs. Klyucharova wore a dark burgundy and green checkered dress, Amelie was clad in a shimmering white medieval crinoline. The only accent on it was the dark red ribbon lacing the front of her bodice and finishing with a giant bow. Hermione wore a rich chocolate brown with some cream lace, there were few pale greens and intense mauves, one peach dress that Neville tried not to snicker at as the garment was looking more like a beginning of the century underwear.<p>

After the deserts were served, the hosts asked their guest of honor to regal them with one of his famous tales. But he offered them first to see the match between Amelie and Trayan before he told the story.

"Blitz, blitz!" clapped the party.

Amelie ceremonially bowed before her opponent and he offered her the white set. The match was swift as evidently they were both good at the ancient game. The small goblets of wine were emptied fast until on the board only the two kings remained.

"A draw!" exclaimed Monsieur Germain and in his voice there was something akin to disappointment. The Black King raised his goblet to him and said, "Oh, noble Knight, my wine is still intact and so is the wine of my noble peer the White King. It may be against the rules otherwise, but as such you can call one more game tonight and still taste it!"

"One more game only?"

"One more! But first my troops need to regroup! Pray tell your story while we get ourselves in order!" The two armies got into their box.

The entire group sat around Monsieur Germain. He sighed and started.

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><p>"You know that when Grindewalt started gaining power a lot of deadly secrets had to be hidden from him. Among the ones that needed to survive the war that was brewing was the secret of the Oblivion Wine. Yes, you know that it exists but that nobody had seen it since that war started. It was there in the director's office in Durmstrang one day and the next morning it was gone, all of it. It is a powerful substance, the wine of forty herbs as it was otherwise known. It allowed a memory to be restored no matter how severely it was damaged, and we were afraid that if it went to the wrong hands, it will be used to resurrect the slain evil minds and to help recuperate the army of bad guys. There is only one intact copy of the recipe where you can read the full set of forty herbs and it was hidden together with the last know supply of the wine made. And it was hidden here, in Durmstrang.<p>

The chess set that you see is the hiding place – only the Black King knows where the wine is. In order for the people not to forget it completely, he serves one goblet of it to the winner of the only game in the night of Saint Anthony, who had made the baskets around the bottles in his cellar. There is only one game with one winner and the winner decides what to do with the wine. This one small goblet is enough to fully restore the man's mind to perfection. But it is only the Black King's goblet that holds the Oblivion Wine. All the rest are filled with wine exceptional as to its taste, but ordinary as to magic qualities.

Unfortunately the men who put the set together were slain in the war and the magic phrase that would make the Black King bring the humans to the recipe was lost with them. Over the years a lot had been tried and all of it failed. This is why I hoped tonight that Amelie would win the goblet for me, as she is young and she does not need it yet. The mighty wizards who made the set were my friends and I was hoping that I may find in my memory a hint as to how to restore the original recipe. Alas, for the second game it is the Kings who chose their player, the Black King having the first draw. It had never happened before as far as I know, so I am not aware what the criteria about his choice are."

"But Monsieur Germain, what will happen to the secret if the set is destroyed?"

"It cannot be destroyed ma belle. The kings and their armies are made of vine wood. As long as there is one vine red and one vine white left in the world – the set cannot be destroyed. It had survived several attempts and the price for trying to force the hand of the Black King is very high. The unfortunate intruder is forced to go with the King into the cellar and up to now nobody had come out to tell what happened there. As you know, this chess set can be used once a year, on this day. A year is a long time for a mortal."

* * *

><p>There was a noise coming from the chess box. The two armies came out and took their places on the floor which was made of white and black tiles. The figures had grown significantly, they were human in size. But the goblets they were holding were the same small ones.<p>

The Black King came to the center of the giant chess board and lifted his sword. He pointed at a tall man who Neville had met few times in their sports nights. Vesselin was the Durmstrang chess champion. There were stories about simultaneous games that he had won while blindfolded. The man had been a prodigy before Durmstrang and continued to play at the muggles' tournaments for fun. In fact, he was at his Alma Mater to be more isolated from the temptations around, including the hordes of young women following his chess career. The Black King was definitely determined not to give his wine away. Vesselin went to the king and kneeled before him.

The White King came out and stood next to his rival. He looked dejectedly at the group and his blue eyes passed by Amelie who was waving. The rest were looking at Vesselin and not meeting the King's gaze. Suddenly the piercing blue eyes stopped at Neville. They seemed to bore into his mind. The King lifted his sword and pointed. Neville looked around, he was sure the King was having someone else in mind, but the spectators moved away from him like oil from water. The young man lifted his shoulders and moved forward.

The two queens came forward, took the goblets from their respective husbands and stood aside. The Black King was the first to knight his champion with his heavy sword. The White King did the same despite Neville's protest.

"I am dismal at chess!"

"Sometimes desperation is better advisor than the training, oh, young knight!" said the White King. Neville's eyes grew huge. Of course, if he won, he could cure one of his parents! He will have either Mum or Dad back! He had to win, this time for them!

The Bulgarian champion was obviously sure that he can beat Neville with his eyes shut. He used his time to talk to his army and tell some chess jokes that made them laugh. After the initial few cups he was even more relaxed while Neville was tense as a bow string. He was trying to remember all that Ron had taught him at Hogwarts, the necessity to sacrifice, the importance of sometimes seemingly losing situation, the ultimate trick to get a spare pawn exchanged for a heavier figure. One of his pawns was almost at the end of the field when his opponent decided to show an effective move. Vesselin's pawn stepped on the first rank.

"There are too many knights around so I would like a third bishop."

"There are no spare bishops with us, we will need to use one of our spectators. The rule is the oldest male!" said the Black King. Monsieur Germain stood up. "This will be me, Your Majesty! What shall I do to serve you?"

"Take the goblet from my soldier! You should go into the cellar and fill it from one of the thirty-three casks which are there."

"Is there any difference from which one, Sire?"

"You are a knowledgeable man, but it is only me who can tell the difference between the Oblivion Wine and the ordinary one, unless you stumble on it by chance. Even then you cannot drink it, as the wine there is poisonous, it can be drunk only outside of the cellar, as you know! And you don't need a sword, you are a bishop!" The King looked pointedly at the old man's cane. He sighed and gave it to Amelie who was standing next to him.

Monsieur Germain moved into the cellar and emerged with a goblet half full. The Black King came to him and smiled. "Nice choice of wine! But it is not the Oblivion Wine, my dear Bishop Vigneaut! Let us resume our play!"

The remaining figures took their places and Neville sacrificed a Knight. Vesselin was distracted as he had had more wine and missed that the move gave Neville the chance to push his pawn to the eighth rank.

"I would like to have a second Queen, Your Majesty!" he said to the White King.

"As my noble rival said, we do not have spare bishops nor queens. You will have to select your own, but she should be dressed in white." The King was smiling. Neville looked around. The only woman in white was Amelie and she was jumping with joy. The young woman almost ran to the field but did not forget a kniksen to the Queen and King.

"For you the rules are the same, but you need also to get a proper crown, my dear! There should be at least one extra diadem there, although it might be dusty, we had not had a second Queen ever for the Saint-Athanas day's game."

Amelie disappeared through the door and came several minutes later with a half full goblet and a glittering crown. The Black King made a step towards her but the White King stopped him. "For the moment, she is my Queen!"

"Whatever! She is too young anyway!" the Black King snuffed. "Even with two Queens you cannot do much!"

The White Queen sizzled. She was standing across the field from Amelie but caught her gaze. The original Queen pulled out her sword and so did the young woman. Neville hardly managed to say a word before the two ladies in white started massacring the black army. Vesselin was yelling something to his troops but they did not listen to him. The Black Queen fought one to one with her white counterpart, Amelie took down the two swords-less bishops in rapid succession, and helped a knight poleax his rival. Under his protection she lifted her sward and pointed it at the Black King.

"Check, Your Majesty!"

The Black Queen ran in front of the King. She smiled smudgy as the field was under the protection of the last remaining black Bishop, Monsieur Germain. The White Queen laughed, "I have been waiting for this for so long!" She ceremoniously ousted the Black Queen and was in her term eliminated by the bishop.

"I am truly sorry, Monsieur Germain, but I have to do it!" Amelie touched him with his own sward. "Checkmate, Your Majesty! The game is over!"

* * *

><p>The Black King laughed. "Not yet Milady, not yet! My cup had not been drunk!" He handled his tiny goblet to the grinning Neville. Everyone was applauding him, even Vesselin. The Oblivion Wine was approximately a spoonful and was dark, dark red, almost black in the candlelight. Amelie's shriek made its surface blink.<p>

"Monsieur Germain, Monsieur Germain!" She was trying to stop her great-grandfather from slumping on the floor. Several people rushed to help her, one brought a chair, Lavignia and Ambroise ran to his side. "Water! Bring water!" Amelie cried. Monsieur German was gasping for air and his eyes were closed.

Several glasses were brought in an instant, but despite them being full not a drop spilled out. Everyone could see the liquid was like a glass. Trayan brought a bottle of wine, but not a drop could be poured either. Everyone started hurriedly to shake the goblets and vases but all the liquids seemed frozen solid.

"You did it out of spite!" The White King blistered.

"Whatever you call it, but I want the game to finish first, right? No liquid is liquid in Durmstrang until my cup is upped. Come on, champion, it is all yours!" The Black King was smiling maliciously.

Neville swallowed. There was no time to pop to London, give it to one of his parents and be back before Monsieur Germain died. The one parent who he could save would be the first to reprimand him for putting the old man's life at risk only for the vague hope that he or she might have been saved. Would Mum be happy to see Dad as he is? Would Dad withstand seeing Mum as she is? They have been together in good and in bad, in sickness and in health. It was either both or no one.

Neville bended over Monsieur Germain. "To your health, Monsieur Vingeault!" He lifted the cup to the old man's lips and the ancient wine maker sipped the single swallow like he tasted a new vintage. He held it in his mouth, turned it around, drew some air through his nose and slowly swallowed. When he opened his eyes, they were clear.

"It is an exceptional wine, young man, and we will talk about it and your generosity later! We are running out of time. Now, Your Majesty, you know, apud vino veritas! Please give me back the recipe!"

"So you remembered the magic phrase, don't you? But you make wine and you know that it may turn right and it may turn wrong, don't you? Well, the White King's champion proved to be nobler than I thought, but… You remember Mr. Malinov, the one who was making that fantastic blackberry wine? He was the one that carved me. He put a charm that when the last Oblivion Wine was gone, so would be the recipe, if it was not retrieved before the last cask was emptied. You just drank the last cup, my noble Bishop Vigneualt, the very last goblet of Oblivion Wine! Despite the allegations of my noble peer it was not me who froze the liquids. It was the curse on the wine that did it! It was created for the last man who won the Oblivion Cup to have the time to ask for the recipe and I would have been bound to administer the last test to him – or her. But your champion did not ask as he did not know the code words and you asked when the last wine was gone. Now we all will die as our mission had ended and there is no more magic wine in the casks. As you know, the casks without wine dry away and are used for fire only. Farewell my noble knights, for us it is time to go back to the vineyards where we came from!"

* * *

><p>Before the silent crowd the thirty-two chess figures turned into dry vines and burst in flames. The winter gale blew open a window and a gust of wind swept the small mounds of ashes from the chequered floor. The chess box shrank to a small wooden recipe box with a beautiful engraved bunch of grapes on the top. Monsieur German slumped back in the chair.<p>

"Now it is the most bitter of all wines that I have tasted, Neville, now that I know that it was me who destroyed the last chance to find this precious recipe! Alas, it cannot be turned back! Malin Malinov was a marvelous winemaker but preferred his secret to go with him, even for his trademark blackberry wine. Too much proud in him, way too much! Amelie, what are you doing?"

Amelie was shaking her hair which still had some ashes from the crown that had burnt in her hairdo. But she looked at Trayan and mischievously smiled.

"Now if you put a hand into my décolletage you may give what you find there to Monsieur Germain! But you have to untie my bow first!"

Trayan blushed crimson. "I cannot do that here!" He caught himself and the colour of his face turned a deeper shade of red. "I mean…"

"Bishop once, bishop forever, I can either pardon your sin or marry you to her for you to do it on legal grounds. Do as the mademoiselle said!" chuckled Monsieur Germain. "If I remember correctly this dress, it can stand on its own, so the bow is simply a decoration."

* * *

><p>Red-faced Trayan pulled the ends of the giant bow and it fell to two streaming red ribbons on the side. He looked down Amelie's cleavage and gasped.<p>

"Pull it out, but quietly, as they are not bound together!" the young lady laughed.

Trayan delicately pulled a roll of small parchments from the corset. "No way!" Monsieur Germain exclaimed and jumped from the chair with the agility of a much younger man.

"Careful, the Oblivion Wine is on top and the parchments are fragile. It was cold there!"

"Amelie, how did you find them?"

"Well, I did not know where to look for them, but the reasonable choice was that they should be close to the cask with the Oblivion Wine. I only had to sniff and that is it, I lifted the cask, which was empty as the Black King said, and took them. I know that stealing is bad, but it does not seem that even the King knew where they were. It was going to be the next test; the champion would have been let in and made select the right cask and he could try once only. If he failed, he would be prisoner forever of the recipe box. Neville, no matter how high I think of you, but your nose needs working on."

"What is wrong with my nose now? It was quite OK in the afternoon!"

"Not your nose-nose, but your nose for wines!" Amelie dissolved in giggles. "But as Monsieur Germain says: first things first. Tomorrow we are brewing the first batch of the new Oblivion Wine and we are flying to cure your parents immediately after it is made!"

"I love you! But you were gambling a real high stake, if you were caught?"

"As the Russians say, whoever does not risk, does not drink champagne! Corker!"

The old elf appeared immediately. "Mademoiselle Amelie!"

"Corkie, please go back to the Bathtub and bring the casket under my bed, but don't shake it!" A second later a dusty box lay in her feet.

Monsieur Germain laughed. "You found the secret entrance to the heart of Vingeuat then? Wait, I told you that after Genevieve died! You were five at that time! I remember now!"

"You cannot imagine how glad I am to know that this Oblivion Wine does work indeed, Papa!" Ambroise laughed. "You never told anyone else! We thought that this secret is lost forever as well! Corkie, glasses for everyone! This is the most exceptional champagne Vigneaut had ever made! Let us toast my father the extraordinary story teller and my granddaughter who will get what she needs by hook or by crook! Trayan, you are duly warned, my boy!"

* * *

><p><em>Epilogue<em>

It was bright May morning and a noisy company was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron main dining room. Neville and Hannah were celebrating their marriage with the blessing of Frank and Alice whose memory was fully cured by the Oblivion Wine. Hannah's bridesmaid was no other than Amelie and Neville's best man was Monsieur Germain.

"Alors, what are you going to do now, I mean before you start working on the new generation of Longbottoms?" the best man enquired.

"Renovate!" Hannah answered with a dazzling smile. "Neville is going back to school only in August and we have to finish the renovation by then."

"What are you renovating? Did you already buy a house?"

"Nope! We got the Leaky Cauldron as a wedding gift from Neville's parents!"

"Well done, Mr. Longbottom, Tom has been getting tired of it for decades but loves the place and would not sell it to anyone. It might have cost you a pretty penny anyway!"

"Sure it did. Luckily St. Mungo decided to compensate us through a settlement instead of going to court for mistreatment. They would have been in boiling water up to their eyebrows! Our files had not been touched for years, in fact had not been touched since we were admitted. Had someone acted then, the Oblivion Wine could have been spared. But it is all in the past now. Alice and I are so grateful for what you did for us!"

"As I said, if not for Neville's generosity none of it would have happened. You have a truly remarkable son, Mr. Longbottom. What are the two of you gossiping in the corner?" The best man asked his great-granddaughter and the bride.

"Ah, Monsieur Germain, you are interrupting my first independent supplier's deal! What else would Hannah serve if not the best of the French wines, the Vigneaut reserve!"

"This is a great opportunity of course but I would be happier if you start working on the next generations of Vigneauts, ma belle!"

"Monsieur Germain, with all my due respect, this will be the next generation of Traminers, and I give you my word that we will start working on it after the grapes are harvested in November." Trayan had apparetred for the occasion despite the busy season at home.

Amelie flashed her engagement ring – a bunch of grapes with fire opals for grapes, nephrite leaves and diamond dew drops. "We will be going first to Australia for some exchange training, don't forget!"

"And if you forget, we have so much Oblivion Wine made, that it will not be a problem!" chuckled her grandfather.


End file.
